Damn, you, Chance Weston! Cari felt her frustration mounting to the breaking point. You had no right leaving your little sister high and dry like this!
The trouble was, she wasn't dry. She was wet, hot, and very much in need of a man. For a girl addicted to sex the way she was, the past month of cold turkey had been sheer hell. She had done her best to forget about her brother, to put their life as lovers behind her. She had avoided him, refusing his and Tanya's invitations to come over to their new home for dinner.
In fact, she had done her best to completely forget about sex. Until tonight, she hadn't even allowed herself a date. Then she met Barry Cole earlier in the day and accepted his proposal for dinner and a movie.
She met Barry on campus and wasn't sure why she said yes to the young, red-haired man. Perhaps it was because he was an old friend. He and Chance had always been close, best friends back in high school. Then she had been the little sister who had always been a pest to them.
However, today Barry's reaction to meeting her had been more than enthusiastic. They had talked a bit about old times, then quickly outlined what they were doing on campus. Barry was presently working on his doctorate, supporting himself on the less-than-prosperous wages of a student instructor. The more they talked, the more she realized he might be a temporary solution to the problem she had developed over the past month. At least she had hoped so.
At the moment, the problem looked far from being solved. They had gone to dinner, then a movie, and despite all her efforts to make her desires known to him, he hadn't invited her back to his apartment. He did, after much cajoling on her part, agree to come up to hers for a cup of coffee.
So far, coffee was all he had shown any interest in-that and polite conversation, ranging from student-faculty relationships to politics.
Interesting conversation, she admitted, but she didn't want talk now.
She wanted action.
As she sat there on the sofa beside him, two cups of coffee settling heavily on her stomach, she toyed with the idea of reaching over and grabbing his crotch, squeezing his cock and pleading, "I can't take it anymore. You've been driving me mad all evening! I'm yours! I'll do anything if you'll just plow my pussy with this wonderful cock!"
She didn't. If he couldn't feel the pressing invitation of her thigh next to his and the lingering caress of her hand on his shoulder and neck, he probably wouldn't get the message if she unzipped his fly, pulled his prick out and began sucking it. For some reason, Barry seemed to be on a completely different wave length.
Maybe he's afraid of putting the make on his best friend's sister? She puzzled over the problem. Other friends of her brother hadn't been bothered by that. All of them had tried to get into her pants. Some had succeeded. Maybe he doesn't like girls? Then why in hell did he ask me out?
"You know, you've really changed from the days when I used to come over to your house for cookies and milk after school," he said, moving an arm behind her, letting it rest on the back of the sofa. His fingers brushed at her shoulder. "You've grown up, Cari. You're really quite a beautiful woman."
Finally! He's finally going to make a move. It's about time!
She scooted closer to him, her thigh pressing warmly against his. She fluttered her eyelashes and looked innocently into his eyes. "It happens to the best of us, growing up, I mean. I was afraid you still saw me as Chance's kid sister."
"Well, I guess… I mean… this afternoon I did," Barry mumbled.
"But tonight, as we've sat here, I realized…"
Suddenly, his head darted forward. His hand tightened on her shoulder, while the other hand lifted her chin. His lips met hers.
He hasn't got the smoothest style I've ever seen, but it's a beginning!
She opened her mouth, inviting his tongue inward. She accepted the tantalizing flicks and caresses of his exploring oral digit. He seemed a bit awkward, but his eagerness more than made up for it.
Displaying her approval, she melted against him. She arched her back, firmly rolling the twin peaks of her tits against his chest. At the same time, she slipped a thigh between his legs, rubbing it against the stiffness she found hidden there.
At least that proves he isn't turned off by girls!
And she wasn't turned off by him. Her month of celibacy was about to come to an end-thank God! She felt the juices flowing within her. The cleft of her loins ached to feel a man within her once again.
"Mmmmm," she crooned as their lips parted. "That was nice."
"Yes, yes," he mumbled, pulling away from her. His hands released her shoulder and chin. He glanced at his wristwatch. "It's one o'clock. I didn't realize it was so late. I didn't mean to keep you up. And I've got classes in the morning. I've got to be going."
Before she could say a word, he stood and quickly walked to the door.
For some reason, she couldn't shake the image of watching the retreat of a scared rabbit.
"Goodnight, Cari. I'll see you around campus," he said with a hasty glance back over his shoulder. "I apologize for keeping you up so late again."
"Barry," she said. He opened the door, stepped out, and closed it behind him. "… Barry, wait…"
She couldn't believe it. He was gone. One minute he was making a pass, and the next she was sitting alone on the sofa.
What in hell happened? He acted like I had some dread disease! What's the matter with him?
Never before had she seen a man react in such a way. It just didn't make sense. She had done everything to show her receptiveness, everything except come right out and ask him to ball her!
Damn your best friend, Chance! He's as bad as you are!
She shuddered. Her curses did little to relieve the dampness of her loins. She wanted a man and to suddenly find herself rejected for no apparent reason left her flustered and frustrated.
It isn't fair! It just isn't fair!
She was on the verge of tears-anger and need. She gripped her arms and held herself tightly, shaking. There were ways to ease her need, but she didn't want her own fingers. She wanted a man, the feel of a cock moving within the aching channel of her cunt.
If I ever see Barry Cole again, I'll kick him right in the balls! He's apparently got no better use for them!
She shook her head. Finding a sofa pillow beside her, she grabbed it and threw it across the room. It didn't help. She was still angry and she was still frustrated. She couldn't think of anything else she could have done to make her intent more obvious to him. He just didn't respond. She thought about the rigid hardness she had felt beneath his pants and quivered. He was aroused, she didn't doubt that. But why didn't he try to seduce her? Why?
A knock came from the door. Cari looked up, unsure that she had heard the rap. It came again. Brushing back her long blonde hair, she stood and walked to the door, wondering who it could be this late at night.
Gripping the knob, she jerked the door open.
Barry Cole stood on the other side.
"You?" She glared at him, confused and angry. "What do you want?"
"You," he said simply.
His arms shot out, roughly grabbing her by the waist. She was jerked forward, her body crushed against his. "What the hell do you think…"
His mouth covered hers, his tongue driving deeply, drilling toward her throat. She squirmed and twisted, trying to break his hold on her. His hands only tightened, mashing her diminutive frame to his muscular body. His tongue was like a hungry whip, lashing, thrashing within her mouth. Despite herself, she was responding to his unexpected show of passion. At the same time, her anger boiled. She had offered this and he had refused. Now, he apparently wanted to take it.
She was breathless and gulping for air when he finally let her mouth slip from his. "What's going on? Do you think you can just come in here like this and… and rape me?"
"If that's what it takes," he said. He grinned, but he was serious. "I mean it. I want you."
He released her. She stumbled back into the living room. Her knees were trembling and she was confused. He slammed the door behind him, locking and chaining it. He turned and looked at her. His expression didn't hint of any malice, but there was definitely determination in his green eyes.
"Why didn't you do this earlier?" she asked, still angry at his rejection. "You could see I was offering!"
His face went blank, as though he didn't know what she was talking about. He was silent for a moment or two. "Does the offer still stand?"
Dammit! Can't you see that it does? Do you have to be hit over the head with a brick? she thought, but said, "No!"
"Then, I guess it will have to be rape!" He moved toward her, reaching out.
She backstepped, avoiding his groping hands. "Barry, you don't want it this way. Do you?"
"No, but if that's the only way, then I guess it will have to do." He was still coming at her and she was still retreating. "You do want it, want me. You've already said that."
"Yes, but…" she sputtered. He was right, she did want him. The dampness in her crotch was seeping into her panties at the thought of him stuffed inside her.
"No 'buts,'" he said.
"It will be rape," she replied. It will, sort of, if you stretch the definition, she thought.
She continued to back away. The thought of this man, this man she wanted, forcing himself on her was exciting. It was the fantasy of the mock-rape all women dream of come true. The rape that wouldn't be a rape. She wanted to tell him that, but to do so would lessen the thrill. The game they played aroused every lusty need within her.
"I won't hurt you," he said. "I don't want that. I just want you, Cari.
I want you more than any woman I've ever met."
She wanted to rush forward and hug him, to kiss him. Whatever anger she had felt earlier was gone. Her frustration at his earlier rejection had disappeared. She wanted him, ached to have him deeply entrenched in her wanton body.
Her retreat took them into her bedroom. It was by accident rather than design. But she was pleased. The bed would be much better than the floor.
"Do you take off those clothes, or do I have to rip them off you?" he asked. It was definitely a question rather than a threat. This young, flaming-haired man was the most unsure rapist she could ever imagine.
For a moment, she thought of trying to rush past him, and prolong their game, forcing him to struggle with her, throw her to the bed, and take her. But she was afraid to try. As uncertain as he seemed to be, she just might scare him off. And at the moment, that was the last thing she wanted to do.
"I'll take them off," she replied. Damn, if he didn't seem relieved to hear her say that.
As he watched, she skinned off the sweater she wore, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside. Her tits were haltered in one of those sheer nylon no-bra bras. His eyes widened and he sucked in a deep breath when she unclasped that and let it slide seductively down her arms.
I bet this is the first rapist who's had his victim do a strip tease for him!
Next, her fingers tucked beneath the elastic hands of her slacks and panties. Together, she shimmied from them, wiggling in a most provocative manner as she pushed them over her voluptuous hips and peeled them down her shapely legs, to step free. Completely naked, she stood, posing for his devouring eyes. His gaze centered on the fleececovered mound of her cunt. She shivered, delighting in the hunger she saw in those green, caressing eyes.
"You are beautiful," he said. "I never thought a woman could be so beautiful."
He meant it. She could tell. He really meant it. It wasn't just some hollow compliment men usually say to get a girl into the sack. His sincerity got to her, sending thrilling shivers up and down her spine.
"And now, I suggest you get that beautiful body on the bed," he said.
"Because I'm going to fuck you!"
She complied, trying to contain her eagerness, but failing miserably.
Lying supine on her back, her thighs lewdly spread in an open invitation to the young man, she watched as he quickly stripped off his own clothes, scattering them on the floor. Last to come off were his jockey shorts. She gasped as he stood, naked with the thick spike of his cock jutting from his groin.
It's beautiful! She marveled at its thickness, its rigid-looking length. She wanted to take it, to fondle it, to kiss it. But the game of rape would be destroyed then.
Instead, she lay there, her thighs open and vulnerable while he crawled onto the bed and climbed atop her welcoming body. There was no foreplay, no arousing caresses, no intimate fingering of her quim. Just his pressing weight atop her and the strong, demanding feel of his cock throbbing against the moist, pink lips of her pussy.
"I want you," he whispered. "Cari, I want you!"
His hips lurched.
"Arraarragggahhh!" she groaned, her whole body jarring.
In one forceful thrust, he fed every swollen inch of his cock up into the wanton slash of her cunt. She felt skewered, impaled on the pulsating length of his sex. So hard! So long! So deep! She felt every inch of him, the throbbing, the twitching.
There was a certain satisfaction in that moment. The aching desires that had been building over the past month were unleashed within her.
Fire burned at the very quick of her soul. Her vaginal walls clamped down around his thick wand of lust, relishing the feel of it within her. She was aware, totally aware of the filling mass that packed her man-hungry quim.
"Tight!" he grunted, shoving himself even deeper into the hot socket of her need. "You're so damn tight!"
She was glad. She wanted to be tight for him. She wanted her pussy to feel right for this mock-rapist that pinned her body beneath his muscular nakedness.
She lifted her arms, intent on hugging him close, but his hands grabbed her wrists, holding her arms outstretched on the bed above her head.
She felt bound, unable to escape him. The delightful feeling only added to the excitement of their coupling.
"Now, I'm going to fuck you, long and hard," he whispered, his mouth at her neck, nibbling. "Fuck this hot, tight pussy!"
His hips wrenched upward. The thick slab of his sex slithered from the innermost recesses of her cunt. She groaned, suddenly feeling empty and hollow.
There was an abrupt rush and the engorged head of his rod splayed open her vagina once again, filling her with the hot, hard cock she wanted so desperately. She moaned, reveling in the magnificent presence that penetrated her body.
"God!" she moaned. "You're so big! So hard!"
"Just what you wanted," he said, swinging his head down a bit so that his lips and tongue were in reach of her tits.
His mouth captured one of the warmly glowing peaks of her nipples. She arched her back, forcing the wanton flesh of her breast into his face.
He accepted her offering, licking and sucking ravenously. The whole mound of her tit seemed to swell, aching with a delicious swirl of sensations.
Up and down, his persistent prodder reamed into the gratefully welcoming mouth of her sex. She tried to tauten her vaginal muscles even tighter, trying to hold him securely anchored in the depths of her quim. It was an impossible task. Her own flood of slippery, lubricating juices made her love channel too wet for that. But it was a delight trying.
Up he rose, his spear-like javelin, pulling back like a piston of flesh. Her whole body seemed to flow with him. She felt the pink folds of her cunt cling to the rigid mass of his manhood, then fold back on themselves as he came plunging back into her open body.
It was good, so damn good. She wanted to show him just how good it was, to hold, or perhaps to wedge her hand down between their now sweatslippery bodies and tenderly stroke his testicles. But his clasping hands held her wrists tightly. The only thing she could do was to throw her pelvis upward, greedily swallowing each lunge of his cock, and groan appreciatively as she accepted the meaty pleasure of his lust.
Harder, he slammed into her. She felt his balls bouncing off the rounded curves of her ass. She heard the wet, sucking sounds of his cock gliding in and out of her body. The virility of the man now riding atop her was incredible. Each shafting of his cock was ecstasy in itself. He was so strong, so powerful. His unyielding spike of sex demanded her full attention, which she gladly gave.
Deeper, she wanted him deeper. She wanted him to reach out, slip his hands beneath her ass and hike her bottom into the air. But his hands were occupied, pinning her arms above her head.
She took care of the problem herself.
Pulling her knees upward so that they pointed to the ceiling and her feet rested flat on the bed, she formed a saddle for him. Immediately the angle of his entry was changed. He drove deep into her, opening recesses yet untouched by his probing prick.
She writhed and squirmed, whimpering little moans of pleasure. She bucked and hunched, wantonly receiving the ramrod of his bone-hard cock.
Faster his pelvis rose and fell. He fucked her with wild abandon. The power and need of his reckless ravaging of her body had never been hinted at earlier. She was surprised by his fierce lust, but grateful, wonderfully grateful.
Even with Chance, she had never experienced such consuming desire, such overpowering strength. She surrendered herself to this man, giving herself completely to the rhythmic plowing of his fantastic cock.
His tit-sucking mouth and his pistoning stalk of manhood were all she wanted. They were all it took!
Her thighs glowed, fiery balls of sexual heat. Swirling flames licked out, sizzling through the open nerve endings of her body. Bigger and bigger the balls grew. Hotter and hotter the intensity of her need flared. Then they met deep in the core of her body forming a nova of exploding pleasure.
A month without a man, a month of wanting and aching, a month of needing with absolutely no satisfaction was suddenly unleashed within her. Like a hurricane, the orgasmic sensations of her release swirled within her. She was blasted higher and higher, crying out the full pleasure of her climax.
She throbbed and trembled. She writhed and twisted beneath the man still poling atop her supine body. Wave upon wave of devouring sensations washed through her, freeing all the lusts and needs she had held penned up for the past month.
It seemed like an eternity before the last of her flesh tremors passed and she lay panting and exhausted under the red-haired mock-rapist.
However, he still had not slowed his furious plowing of her wanton cunt. Nor did he until she was lost amid the oblivion of another climax, and then yet another.
When her eyes fluttered open from the third rush of ecstasy, she felt his body tense. He threw himself into her, his cock spearing to the quivering depths of her pussy. His body jerked and quaked spasmodically as his own lust rushed from his groin and flooded her quim.
His hands released her wrists and she wrapped her arms around his trembling body, lovingly caressing his nakedness. Gratefully she received the hot gushes of his loins, thankful that he had chosen her as the chalice of his need.
She didn't know how long they lay there after the last quivering twitch of his cock passed. It was just good enough to savor the feel of him, his weight pressing solidly atop her. When at last his deflated prick slipped wetly from her come-filled cunt, he lifted his head and kissed her. There was passion in that kiss, but it was tender and gentle, containing the same gratitude she felt toward him.
He then rolled to his back and eased her into the hollow of his shoulder. She snuggled closely, enjoying the warmth of his body close to hers. Closing her eyes, she sighed, satisfied and sated. He's going to spend the night.
She drifted off into sleep, for the first time in a month, feeling very much a woman.